


Married a Waitress and I Don't Even Know Her Name

by angellteeth



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Based off a country song i heard on the radio, F/M, Pre-Series, Ya know how he got married once? Yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26276392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellteeth/pseuds/angellteeth
Summary: The title says it all, I think!
Relationships: Stan Pines/OC
Kudos: 6





	Married a Waitress and I Don't Even Know Her Name

Stan opened his eyes and groaned, immediately shutting them again.

He couldn't remember a thing from yesterday after around 11 AM and all he was aware of was pain bouncing around his skull.

So that was a good sign.

And judging from the fact he was in a bed, he'd probably ended up sleeping with someone.

Even better.

He braced himself and opened his eyes again, waiting for everything to unblur. It never cleared up entirely, he needed glasses. Or contacts. At least his sight was okay enough that he could do most thing easily. Except read.

Head pounding, he got up. He hadn't noticed before that he was still fully clothed. That was weird for a one night stand. Probably. He hadn't had many one night stands in his life.

He was pretty sure this was his first one, actually.

A quick glance around the room, and he was pretty sure there was no one else in the room. Paying attention and retaining information was really hard at the moment.

He slowly walked out the door into the hall. With any luck, he'd not run into anybody on his way out.

The house formatted weird, everything fed into the one hall and had a shut, identical door. Maybe he was just too used to open floor plans. He ended up peeking into every room before he found the kitchen, which also had the front door.

Or. A door. Could be the back door.

Unlucky for him, the kitchen also had a woman. He sighed and fully entered the room, hoping any conversation would be short.

"Oh," The woman turned around to look at him. She was pretty. "Yer up. C'mere, 'ave some coffee." She set a mug on the table. Some creamer was already out. It was hazelnut.

He just couldn't catch a break, huh?

Deciding not to say no to free coffee, he pulled out a seat, grimacing at the sound of it scraping again the floor. He sat down heavily and drank the coffee black. He hated the taste but he couldn't be fucked to add anything.

He mumbled some kind of thanks as she poured her own.

She stayed standing over by the counter.

"Fergive me but ah," She started, looking sheepish, "I didn't happen to catch yer name?"

"'S Stan." He mumbled, wishing that she'd just stop talking and also that he could lay face down in a snowbank. He couldn't remember what state he was in or what alias he was under. At that point, did it really matter?

"Cathy." She extended a hand, assuming correctly that he didn't know her name either. He noticed she had a wedding ring.

Limply shaking her hand, he noticed he also had a wedding ring that definitely wasn't there yesterday.

He took it off, staring at it with obvious confusion.

"Oh, by the way. I think we mighta gotten married some time las' night." Cathy explained, taking a drink of her coffee. She seemed all too calm about it.

Stan was quiet for a minute, just staring at the ring, dumbfounded. "I. Am so sorry." He sighed. "The hell else happened last night? What state is this?"

"Las Vegas, Nevada, baby!" She was very proud of this fact. He couldn't tell if she just called anyone things like "baby" or if it was because she was apparently his wife now. "Nd let's see. Ya came inta the bar 'round 2 in the afternoon, 'nd after 'bout 20 minutes ya were completely hammered. Wouldn't quite talkin' to me neither! And now we're married, basically." She shrugged. Probably didn't remember too much either.

"Huh..." He slowly mulled over this information, taking a gulp of the coffee. It burned.

"Oh, ya probably feel like shit right now don't ya?" She commented, pouring pickle juice into a cup and setting it down in front of him.

He'd had enough hangovers to know why.

He drank it all at once, not wanting to savour the taste.

"Ya wanna lay back down fer a while?" She sounded sympathetic.

"M, no, that's fine. I'm fine." He still wasn't talking at a normal volume. He pressed his palms into his eyes, resting his elbows on the table.

"Ya sure, hun?" She leaned on the counter.

He just have her a thumbs up for a second before going back to holding his head.

He had no idea how long he was like that. Cathy quietly went about her day around him, setting a cup of water down at some point and refilling it whenever she noticed it was empty.

Eventually he felt less like shit, and looked up. At this point, he wasn't sure what the social etiquette was. Probably arrange a divorce. Though, he could just leave. But he was still more or less trying not to be a dick.

He didn't have time to make a choice, Cathy came into the kitchen.

"Ay, ya feelin' better?" She took a seat at the table.

"Eh." He shrugged and nodded. "More or less."

"That's what I like ta hear!" She flashed a smile. As headache inducing as she was, she was also growing on him. A bit, at least. "Wanna get some lunch? I'll pay." Who is he to deny a free meal?

"Sure, why the hell not?" He shrugged, pushing the seat out and standing up.

"You'll have ta drive. I, ah, don't have a car." She stood up and grabbed a coat off the back of a chair he hadn't noticed before.

He nodded, mumbling something mostly incoherent. It was probably meant to be a "yeah, sure, whatever" or something like that.

They each took a seat in his very messy car, he mumbled some kinda apology for that. He was mumbling a lot that day.

He noticed the car was low on gas, grumbling to himself and hoping it was enough.

He ended up just driving around until Cathy took pity on him and gave some directions.

He parked his car and they both got out. He put his hands in his pockets, absent mindedly noticing that he'd forgotten his keys. He hadn't made a mistake like that in a while.

His head still hurt too much to care.

They got a seat and he realized he felt too nauseas to eat anything. He decided to just get some water.

"So," Cathy didn't look at the menu at all. She already knew what she wanted, she'd been there plenty of times. "Tell bout yerself." 

He considered the question. He probably couldn't tell her much without her feeling bad for him. He didn't want her pity.

"I'm uh, new round here. Drove a van off a cliff once, hit a man in the face with a dead pigeon last week." That was about all he could tell her that wasn't remarkably sad or illegal.

Cathy laughed. It turned into a short pretty quickly. It was nice for someone to react to him positively for once.

"Well ain't you charming?" She snickered, taking a sip of water.

"I think you're the only one who thinks that. So, how bout you? You got a life?" He changed the subject off himself.

"Mm, lemme think. I work down at that bar we met at, and I've slapped almost every customer. I've also got a cat, who I locked in the laundry room 'fore ya woke up. Ya like cats?"

"I don't think I've ever even seen a cat in real life." He shrugged, gulping down water. He was really thirsty.

"Excuse me?" She seemed shocked.

"Yeah. There weren't very many strays back where I used to live, and my brother was allergic." He shrugged. "Or, is, I guess. He's not dead. We just don't talk."

"Oh? How come?"

"Uhh. Things. Don't worry about it. Uh, tell me bout your cat." He changed the subject again.

"Oh, he's a real sweet thing. Say, ya could meet him when ya drive me back." She smiled. It sounded like a nice suggestion.

"Sure, why not." He nodded and shrugged.

"Great! I'll, ah, be right back. Bathroom." She stood up quick and walked off. Except he saw her go outside and get into his car through the window.

He stood up, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. He grabbed the nearest lone person and shoved a wad of money in his hand. "Hey, you, hundred dollars. Follow that car." He dragged him outside. He had no idea how much money he gave the guy.

The guy was too bewildered to argue. Money is money, after all.

They tailed Cathy until his car ran out of gas.

She pulled off the road and the guy pulled up behind her. He stuck his head out the window while Stan got out of the stranger's car, slamming the door. The guy was curious, who could blame him.

"What the _fuck_ Catherine?!" Stan yanked the driver's side door open.

"Uh, let's talk about this-" She looked panicked, holding her hands up, palms out.

"Get outta my damn car." He didn't want to talk.

She obliged, stepping out and away. That gave her some piece of mind. 

He opened the trunk, pulling out a canister of gasoline he definitely didn't siphon.

"Uh, ya see, it really sucks tryna get around Vegas without a car-" She tried to explain herself, maybe hoping to get a sympathy vote.

"I live in this car, Catherine." He wasted no time filling up the tank.

"Holy shit Im so sorry- I would never steal from a homeless person on purpose-" She floundered, shocked.

"Yeah, yeah, good for you." He shoved the canister back in the trunk and shut it, getting into the car.

"Fuck, I hate to bother ya fer this but could ya uh, drive me back?" She nervously cracked her knuckles.

He groaned and scrounged around till he had what looked like a decent amount of money at a glance. It was just a bunch of ones.

"Pay that guy." He pointed at the guy he'd kinda forced to drive him and gave her the money.

"Thanks- Good luck, Stan."

"Yeah, you too, Cathy." 

He sighed and tucked the ring away in the sun visor above the seat, and drove off.


End file.
